My Life's Masterpiece
by fearlessly
Summary: Kurt and Blaine lead very different lives, both of which are results of unfortunate circumstances. They meet at a time when they both could use a friend. Despite their age gap, the chemistry felt between them can't be denied, but will it be too much for them to handle?


Kurt Hummel inhaled a deep breath as he took one final look in the mirror. He had given himself plenty of time to get ready, as was his custom. It was nothing for Kurt to spend hours choosing his outfit, often changing multiple times before finally landing on the most appropriate ensemble. This time though, Kurt wasn't sure why he was obsessing over his attire, as it would most likely end up in a heap while he bared his body for his first ever client.

He took one more deep breath, trying to keep his nerves at bay as he fiddled with his plum-coloured silk tie and smoothed down the lapels of his charcoal suit, for the hundredth time. He was anxious. His stomach had been raging all week – since the moment he received the email outlining the particulars of his first assignment.

Being a nude life model was something that Kurt had never imagined himself doing – or _having_ to do. But life circumstance often changes things - important things like comfort zones, ethics, and morals. He certainly didn't think less of people who bared their bodies for the sake of art, but he had never envisioned this type of job for _himself_. Kurt was reserved and careful with his body, which probably stemmed from his father's protective views on sexual conduct and honouring one's self. Anytime Kurt had to change in public like in a communal theatre's dressing room or in the locker room after combat class, he took great care to ensure no one could see him. Kurt perhaps took this reservation to the extreme. He had never really had a boyfriend for any length of time worth mentioning, but even with the casual few he had dated, he had never felt entirely comfortable disrobing (in hindsight, maybe that was why his relationships had never lasted); so for Kurt, undressing for a complete stranger, even for the sake of art, was a tall order.

Kurt wasn't a prude exactly but he was private and was waiting for the right person, although he hadn't actually made any time for dating. All his efforts had been dedicated to his school work; but when he would stop to think about what he wanted out of life, the romantic in him would dream of a person who would look at him like he was a treasure, a person who would worship his curves, his edges, and his heart like it was the most precious thing on earth. Kurt knew (and took solace in the fact) that if he were to ever find that person, he would not hesitate in relinquishing his entire being to him … his heart, his soul, and his body. The realist in him though, scoffed at the notion. It was all just a dream – a mere fantasy. A large part of him didn't really believe _The One_ existed.

Despite his reservations and his morals, this job was something Kurt was forced to do. In about an hour's time, he would be standing, sitting or lying down nude while a stranger looked him over in detail and replicated his image. It was definitely something Kurt wasn't comfortable with but he desperately needed the pay cheque. Kurt closed his eyes breathing shallowly, searching for courage somewhere inside of him when suddenly his mind took him back and flooded with everything that had brought him to this moment…

 _Kurt had been destined for Broadway. He had the perfect mixture of talent, charisma, work ethic, and his voice was second to none – not even Rachel Berry's. His acting skills came naturally to him – Kurt credited this to the years of having to pretend to be someone he wasn't, during the scary time before he came out. After he came out though, he never really stopped acting. He had always had a wall around him, making others believe he was stronger than he actually felt – like nothing got to him. He didn't do it so much for himself but more-so to protect his dad._

 _His dad._

 _When Kurt was eight, his mother unexpectedly died. It became Kurt's responsibility to care for his dad (and his dad for him). Together they had helped each other through the grief and sadness. Their arrangement worked well and eventually they were able to be happy again. They gave their whole lives to each other; Kurt was an only child and Burt never remarried._

 _When it came time for Kurt to leave for New York City to begin his journey to Broadway, there was no one on earth prouder than Burt Hummel. He visited his son often and paid for Kurt to come home for every holiday, but during Kurt's junior year at NYADA, that all came to a halt and Kurt's life changed forever. Burt had succumbed to his third heart-attack._

 _After Burt's death, Kurt had quickly spiraled into a dark abyss that he just didn't know how to get himself out of. The effects of his grief were exactly why Kurt now found himself in such a dire situation. Desperate times leads to desperate measures, as they say. For Kurt, taking off his clothes for a stranger was a desperate act. His grief hadn't been easy. Emotionally, he was a wreck. He lost his focus. His drive and his grades slipped, resulting in the Dean suggesting that he take a leave of absence from NYADA._

 _When Kurt was finally ready to resume his studies – one year later, he received more news that would set him back again. When Burt died, Kurt had naturally inherited his tire shop. What Kurt hadn't known is that with that inheritance came a great deal of debt. He found out that Burt had been behind on many years-worth of invoices and now it fell upon Kurt to pay all of it off. At a mere twenty-two years of age, his life quickly became one of trying to keep up with bill collectors and hounding accounting departments. Even though Kurt was knowledgeable about the auto business, he had no interest in running a tire shop. The last thing he wanted was to move back to Lima, give up his dream of Broadway, and become a mechanic. His dad would not have stood for that option either, so with a heavy heart he let go of the business that his dad had put his blood, sweat, and tears (and a lot of money) into. Even the sale of the shop hadn't brought in enough funds to pay off everything he owed, though._

 _Kurt was left penniless. On top of owing auto part suppliers, he had to begin paying back student loans and still earn enough to live and eat. There was no way he could return to school. He had to work full time (as a waiter) to keep up with bills and living expenses in such a high market as New York – and Kurt refused to leave New York. Leaving would be like admitting defeat and as bad as things were, Kurt was not ready to accept that. So, he moved to a less expensive (and much seedier) part of Brooklyn. His apartment was so small (and run down) that it could not even be considered a "shoebox"._

 _And dating? That was out of the question. He didn't have the time or money for that; and really, he felt embarrassed and inadequate with himself, his job, and his life to share it with another person._

Kurt pushed all these troubling thoughts to the back of his mind, forced himself to grab his keys and wallet and headed for the door. The nerves hadn't dissipated and actually he felt sick to his stomach but this was something he had to do. He would never get to Broadway if he didn't have the educational background to support him and he couldn't get that education if he had no means to pay for it. A full year of auditioning and only scoring a couple of chorus roles in off-Broadway productions was proof of that. On top of it all, those jobs paid pennies and actually the rehearsals took time away from his real and secure (and slightly higher paying after taking tips into account) job at the diner. He soon learned he couldn't do both and still keep his job security so he eventually stopped auditioning. Kurt found himself broke, tired, grieving, and so very far away from his Broadway dreams.

One day soon after he had decided to stop auditioning, while he was walking to his shift at the diner, Kurt saw an intriguing advertisement. It was for a life model – no experience necessary, you only had to be able to sit still for long periods of time (a welcome change from running off his feet at the diner) and be willing to … take off your clothes.

 _Don't throw yourself around Kurt_.

After three weeks of extensive training, he signed a contract with the agency and was ready to take on his first assignment. He could do this. The pay was good and he desperately needed it. What Kurt didn't know was that he would be gaining something much more valuable than a pay cheque.

XX

Blaine Anderson had done this countless times before. He had it down to a science really. He had started the preparations last night, the process that had been engrained into his soul – the one which grounded him and calmed his spirit. He chose his preferred Belgian linen canvas for stretching. He planned on creating a larger piece so it had taken him a while to prepare the stretchers, cut the material, staple, fold, and fasten the canvas. Blaine liked to do every step of preparation himself, he never bought pre-treated canvas and only used the finest quality materials available (and if they weren't available, he had them imported). He was a meticulous creature and liked to take his time preparing. After he had the canvas stretched to his liking he had begun the process of sizing, grounding, and priming - mixing his own recipe of white gesso and expertly applying the first coat, leaving it overnight to dry.

He rose early the next morning, just as the sun began to warm the hills which surrounded his secluded property. He had his coffee and cranberry oatmeal while he caught up on the day's top stories, reading from actual newspaper. Once he finished cleaning up the dishes, Blaine retreated to his studio once again to finish the process of priming his canvas, sanding it lightly, wiping it down with a damp cloth, then applying another coat of gesso which would be left to dry throughout the day.

While the canvas was drying, he stood back and looked around his studio. It was a large space with three long rectangular windows which were perfect for letting in the natural light of the sun, or if Blaine was working late as he often did, the bright light of the moon. As he sipped his second cup of coffee, he noticed that his studio, which was usually cluttered with paintings in various stages of completion, now housed blank canvas, rolls of uncut material, and tools which were all clean and put away, as they hadn't been used in months. Blaine had never expected his creative juices to run dry. He thought about what art and painting has meant to him and his career and really didn't want to think about what it would be like to not be _able_ to create. He desperately hoped that his final attempt at finding his muse would be successful because Blaine _needed_ to keep painting. It was the only thing that truly brought joy to his lonely life…

 _His love for painting evolved when he was a toddler. His mother had given him his first set of finger-paints for his third birthday along with, not just any old paper, but actual canvas which he could create a world of colours onto and let his imagination run wild. From there, he graduated to brushes and heartier paints – acrylics, oils, and all the tools he needed to create astonishing pieces as a child and teenager. It had been evident in his early years that he had a natural talent for art and more importantly, he loved it – more than anything._

 _In his senior year of high school, Blaine was awarded a full scholarship to study abroad at Accademia Europea Di Firenze in Florence, Italy which he graduated from four years later with a Bachelor of Fine Arts specializing in Drawings and Paintings - with Honours. He then went on to London where he gained his Masters of Painting from the prestigious Royal College of Art. His passion for the arts and his unparalleled drive to succeed incited him to return to the United States and work for his Doctorate of Fine Arts at Yale University. To say that Blaine Anderson was a talented painter and highly educated in art would be an understatement. His talents, education, and global experience proved worthy when he was offered a highly sought-after position as a professor at Pratt Institute in Brooklyn._

 _Up until that point, Blaine had dedicated his twenty-nine years of life to his passion and education. Even during the summer breaks Blaine worked hard at creating and showing his paintings at art galleries all over Italy, England, and the United States. He sold many pieces and became quite successful, financially speaking. He slowly but surely made a name for himself within the art circles; but, as successful as he was becoming and as much as he loved his career, Blaine found himself lonely._

 _During the many years Blaine had dedicated to his studies, he had only made the trek to see his family once a year at Christmas. Beyond that there hadn't been any room for making friendships, let alone delving into any sort of romance. So when Blaine was finished with school, during his first semester of teaching at Pratt, he decided to put some time and effort into socializing and dating. He made himself available and actively sought out friendships and more. It didn't take long for Blaine to find someone who was interested in him and whom he equally found attractive – and as with his love for painting, Blaine had fallen fast and hard._

 _Carlos had very quickly become the centre of Blaine's world. He was a professional, an astrophysicist who worked for NASA. He was smart, passionate, and handsome. He and Blaine became very close, very quickly. Their relationship was wonderfully good for a year – until the day it all came crashing down._

 _Blaine didn't like to think about that heart-breaking and miserable time._

 _That had been almost three years ago. It took Blaine about that long to come to terms with what had happened but by the time he was ready to try again, it was too late. Within those past three years, Blaine had retreated into himself. He barely called his mother anymore and his brother even less, as he put all of his time and energy into his art and his work. Aside from going into Pratt five days a week, attending mandatory work functions (where he politely declined unrequited advances from professionals and students alike), and showing up at his gallery openings, Blaine was a homebody – often spending entire weekends holed up in his home studio creating, creating, and creating. Paint was his love, his life, his world. There were times when he craved a warm body, a human touch, but at the same time, the residual pain from the betrayal of his one and only love sat heavy in Blaine's heart. He had sworn off of men almost before he had a chance to explore them. And with that came great loneliness._

 _The further Blaine retreated, the less his creative juices flowed – he was still a well-sought after artist and a favourite and successful professor, but on a personal level, he had lost his mojo. He was lacking a little of that spark that had always driven him to create wonderful masterpieces. Blaine recognized that his continued success depended on his ability to create unique and inspired pieces. Financially speaking he could retire today and not feel any hardship, but his soul would miss it. So now, at age thirty-three, Blaine was in search of his muse – something to ignite that fire within him, something that would make him want to create again. He had tried going back to Florence, London and even New Hampshire where he had studied to see if that would awaken his creative brain. He traveled to Nice, France on a painter's retreat in hopes that would spark something up. He holed himself up in his studio staring at blank canvases for days to see if that drove him to paint. He even changed his diet and started exercising more by swimming laps in his Olympic-sized pool, thinking that the extra adrenaline would somehow help him. Everything he tried ended up being futile._

Now, as darkness infiltrated through the windows of Blaine's studio, he stood before his freshly treated canvas, as he set out all the oil paints, palette, and tools he would be using on the small table beside him. Each colour and each tool had a special place and Blaine hummed as he laid them out meticulously. His tummy erupted every now and then with butterflies. Despite his expansive experience in the field, Blaine was nervous because Blaine needed for this endeavour to be a success.

He hoped that the model he hired would at least intrigue him enough to get his creativity out of whatever dark crevasse it was in. Of course Blaine was very familiar with painting live models, both as part of his education and as part of the curriculum for his students. Pratt had an agency they dealt with for that service alone. This seemed different somehow because something in the ad had caught Blaine's acute attention. It advertised: _fresh,_ _beautiful and unique models to inspire accomplished, professional artists._ These models were not for students just learning to draw or paint. They were for professionals. They were well-trained and well-paid. It was something that Blaine was compelled to try, something about it made him hopeful.

It was something that unbeknownst to Blaine, would end up changing his life.

XX

When the Uber pulled up to the location of his first assignment, Kurt had to pick his jaw up off the floor. The house (or more like mansion) was huge with an elaborate round-about drive way, a three car garage, and well-kept grounds. Kurt willed himself out of the car and proceeded tentatively up the steps to the large door. The home, which was an old Victorian made from red brick with black trim, seemed to glow in the aura of the setting sun. Pink and orange hues peeked from behind the lush green hills which surrounded the property. Kurt took a nervous breath and forced his trembling fist to grasp the door knocker and rasp on the large black door. As he stood there, he wondered what type of artist lived at such a huge estate. The only artists Kurt knew were of the "starving" variety. Very little information had been given to him about his soon to be first client. In fact, the only thing he knew about him was his name – Dr. Blaine Anderson.

With a click of the lock and a slow swing of the hinges, the door opened. What – or rather who – was revealed behind the door took Kurt's breath away. He didn't know if it was from nerves or from the man's aesthetic but whatever it was rendered Kurt momentarily speechless.

"Good evening," Blaine said. His smile was radiant.

"H-hello," Kurt managed to say as he forced himself to hold the man's gaze, which he only managed to do for a moment before his lashes dipped.

Kurt was oblivious to the flirtatious gesture … but Blaine was not. In fact, Blaine had to make himself speak. "You must be Mr. Hummel," he said, his gaze taking in every square inch of the exquisite model standing before him.

"Yes. I'm here for Dr. Anderson." Kurt's voice was barely a whisper.

Blaine grinned wide as he stepped back to allow Kurt to enter. "Please come in," he said, never taking his eyes off of Kurt as he crossed the threshold. "I'm Dr. Anderson," he continued, "but please, call me Blaine."

"Okay, Blaine," Kurt extended his hand. "I'm Kurt. It's nice to meet you."

"The pleasure is mine," Blaine said as he shook the offered hand, taking note of how soft yet how strong it felt in his grip. "May I take your coat?"

Kurt figured why not? He was going to lose his clothes soon enough anyway. _Oh God_ , he thought, as panic filtered into his bones. _I can't get naked in front of this man … he's too … gorgeous_.

"Sure," Kurt breathed. "Thank you."

After Kurt took off his coat and Blaine hung it in the closet, Blaine led him further into the mansion. "My studio is just over here, off the library," Blaine said. "May I get you anything before we start? Water, coffee, something stronger?"

 _Liquid courage, please_ , Kurt thought.

"Oh, I couldn't possibly drink on the job," Kurt said lamely, "maybe just a glass of water, please?"

Blaine nodded. "Please make yourself at home. I'll be right back with your water," he said as he let Kurt into the studio. As soon as Blaine left the room Kurt took a look around. The space was large and meticulously neat. The lights were dim except for a spot light near a large canvas. Kurt noticed an emerald suede chaise lounge sitting upon a low platform. Kurt guessed this was where he would be sitting or lying and baring everything. Behind the lounger the drapes were open letting in the light from the transitioning dusky sky.

Kurt took a big breath in through his nose, forcing himself to calm down. He had a job to do. It wouldn't be in his best interest if he let his emotions – whatever they may be - run wild and make him lose focus. He needed good reviews and references so that he could keep receiving assignments and pay cheques. But how was Kurt going to do that if he had to disrobe, not only in front of a complete stranger but a handsome and enticing stranger at that. How was it possible that he had only met the man three minutes ago and he was already thinking about him in _that_ way?

 _Get a hold of yourself, Kurt_ , he scolded himself. _He is way out of your league. He's beautiful, rich, a professional, and way too old for you_. Kurt didn't know why suddenly his stomach was erupting in butterflies at the thought of the older man but he did know that if he didn't reign himself in, the evening could end up a disaster. _He's probably not even gay_ , he told himself. _I bet he has a wife and kids_ _and besides, he's a client…_

"Here you go."

Blaine's voice made Kurt jump. He turned toward it and was met with the softest yet most intense honey-laced eyes he'd ever seen. He really couldn't help but get lost in them.

"Your water…" Blaine prompted.

Kurt smiled a thank you and took the tall cool glass, downing half of it in two gulps. He was nervous, he knew that and Blaine could tell too.

"So, thanks for coming," Blaine said, trying to make the younger man relax. "Is this the first time you're doing something like this?"

"Is it that obvious?" Kurt asked, his gaze lowering in embarrassment.

"You look a little tense," Blaine said, his fingers caressing the smooth wood of his paintbrushes.

"Well," Kurt moved towards the chaise, "this is my first modeling assignment and I am a little bit nervous. I apologize. Would you like to reschedule with someone more experienced?"

"God, no," Blaine blurted out a little too quickly. _You're perfect. Absolutely perfect_ , he thought. "I mean, unless you want me to? Are you feeling too uncomfortable?"

"No," Kurt said. Part of him needed to go through with it for the money and part of him just needed to go through with it, period. "Just be gentle, okay?"

Blaine smiled. "Always."

Kurt took a visible breath. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," Blaine said as he moved towards the chaise – toward Kurt. "So I read over the contract and sent it back to the agency. They know who I am and have my details on file. As far as they're concerned I am safe, but Kurt, if there is anything you need to ask in order for you to feel more comfortable, I don't mind."

Part of Kurt's training was how to behave around clients. They taught him that he had to read their body language, follow their lead. If the client wanted to talk he could talk but if not then he was expected to remain silent and simply pose for the client's artistic agenda. So far, Kurt was caught off guard by Blaine's friendliness and by his … something that Kurt couldn't quite place.

"I think I'm okay. I just would like to know how much you … you know, want me to take off," Kurt swallowed.

Blaine slowly smiled, "as much as you're comfortable with, Kurt. I have no problem painting you fully clothed, nor would I have a problem painting you fully nude," he said casually, although his heart was about to beat out of his chest.

"As comfortable as being fully clothed sounds, that is not what you signed up for and I know it. You are my first client, Blaine and I have no intention of disappointing you."

"You could never disappoint me, Kurt," Blaine said in a whisper, his eyes taking in Kurt's young features.

"Nevertheless, this is something I have to do – if not with you then with my next client so I may as well get used to it from the start," Kurt said as he looked up into Blaine's intense gaze. He felt a blush form on his cheeks and creep down to his neck and chest as he wondered how this man was able to make him react in such a way.

"As you wish," Blaine said. He moved to a privacy partition situated in the corner of the studio and motioned for Kurt to follow. "You can get as undressed as you like behind here. If you wish to put on a robe, I've left one for you. I hope you don't mind satin."

Kurt's muscles tingled beneath his clothes. He wasn't sure if it was from anticipating the soft satin on his skin or because of the tone of Blaine's voice. "Thank you," he managed to say before disappearing behind the partition.

Blaine gave Kurt his privacy and moved to stand in front of his canvas. He stared at the emptiness, not really knowing what to do with his feelings. How did the hiring of a life model – something that should have been entirely routine to him – turn into … whatever this was? Kurt was gorgeous. Blaine was surprised that this was his first gig because he could already tell that the man was born to model – his body alone was that of a god's and the way he moved so gracefully had Blaine's insides erupting in heat. _Imagine when he…_ Blaine took in a sharp breath and stopped his train of thought. He couldn't go there. He had vowed himself off men and although Blaine was pretty sure Kurt was gay, Kurt was entirely too young for him anyway.

"Can I come out now?" Kurt asked tentatively.

"Of course, I'm ready when you are," Blaine answered.

Kurt slipped out from behind the partition, the black satin wrapped snuggly around him with the knot tied tightly around his narrow waist. Blaine gazed momentarily into Kurt's blue eyes before trailing down to settle on the V of his chest to take in his pale and flawless skin, which was now flushing a tinge of pink. "Perfect," Blaine commented in awe. "Um, please have a seat on the chaise when you're ready."

Kurt nodded and tried to ignore the way Blaine was looking at him. He moved to the chaise and sat on its edge. "Do you want my front or my back?" he asked.

"Let's start with your back," Blaine said. "If you can, sit on your left hip, with your legs out to the right side and your back to me."

Kurt moved into position. This was a basic pose that they had taught him in training. "Like this?"

"Yes," Blaine said, his eyes glued to Kurt's back. "Lean your left elbow on the arm of the chair, turn your head to the right and if you don't mind, drop the robe just to your waist?" It was a question. Blaine did not want Kurt to feel uncomfortable but Blaine realised that Kurt had been right before. He had hired a model for the purpose of a _nude_ painting.

Kurt answered by leaning, turning his head, and dropping the robe. It puddled at his waist, the satin bunching along his bottom and around his hips. "H-how's this?"

Blaine's eyes widened. Kurt's sculpted and pale back looked marble-like in the dim light. Blaine wondered how it would feel beneath his fingertips, his tongue – but he knew all he could do would be to duplicate Kurt's beauty onto canvas. He would let his paintbrush be his fingers and the oil would become his tongue as he created one masterpiece from another. "It's absolutely perfect," Blaine murmured. "Don't move."

And with that Blaine turned his canvas lengthwise and got to work tracing the outline of Kurt's delectable shape in oil pastels.

XX

Kurt had been in the same position for about thirty minutes – but honestly he had lost track of time. He didn't have time to think about time as his thoughts were swirling. His mind was on other things, randomly jumping from thought to thought like: how difficult it was to keep the pose Blaine had put him in; what would _his dad_ think of the job he was doing now; was his body good enough for Blaine's project; was he going to be able to make rent this month; would he ever get back to NYADA; would Blaine give a good reference…

"Do you want to take a break?" Blaine asked – though reluctantly. He was on a role, one which he hadn't been on in quite a few months. Kurt had sparked something within him that made his hands move the brush across the canvas flawlessly, outlining shapes, blending colours, adding contour … but Blaine knew that holding a pose for so long was not comfortable and he wanted Kurt to be comfortable. More than anything, he wanted Kurt to enjoy the process because although he was having trouble admitting it to himself, he wanted Kurt to return for more sessions. His home didn't feel so desolate and lonely when Kurt was in it.

"If you need one," Kurt said. His training had taught him that taking breaks could disturb an artist's flow and to not excessively ask for them unless it was absolutely necessary.

"I want for you to be comfortable, Kurt. I want your body to be relaxed so that it reflects well in my painting."

"Well, sure," Kurt said, "if it won't break your concentration."

"I'll be fine," Blaine said as he set down his brush. "Let's break for ten minutes."

Kurt wiggled back into the robe then let his body relax as he turned around to face Blaine, stretching his arms up and his legs out, working the stiffness from his body. "Thanks," he said.

"No problem. I'll go refill your water. In the meantime, if you need to use the restroom, it's down the hall and to your left."

Forty-five minutes later Kurt and Blaine were still on a break lounging comfortably in each other's company. After Blaine had come back with Kurt's water they both sat on the chaise. At first the silence was uncomfortable. Blaine was very taken with Kurt but he hadn't been alone in another man's company in so long that he had basically forgotten how to _be._

Kurt was letting his nerves get the best of him. On one hand he was still a little uncomfortable with baring his body and on the other hand, Blaine's presence and proximity was giving him different type of nerves – butterflies, something he hadn't felt for another person in a long while.

It didn't take long however for Blaine to break the silence. He was a curious soul and he wanted to know more about the beautiful creature that was sitting next to him. "So, you're a student," he asked.

Kurt didn't really know how to answer. In his heart he was a student still but technically he wasn't. He didn't want to have to explain his situation to Blaine. It was embarrassing. "I'm on a bit of a hiatus," he decided finally and took a long sip of his water.

"Oh, hiatuses can be good," Blaine smiled at him. "What were you studying?"

"Musical Theatre, I want to work on Broadway."

Blaine's eyebrows shot up.

"I know, it's presumptuous of me," Kurt added, "but it's been my dream for as long as I can remember."

"It's not presumptuous, Kurt. If you love it and you work hard, you can get there."

"Sometimes it's not as easy as that," he mumbled but he instantly regretted saying it because he was afraid that it would just fuel Blaine to ask more questions. Kurt quickly changed the subject. "What about you? Are you a professional artist?"

"I am," Blaine said. He paused for a moment, noticing that Kurt had withdrawn a little bit. He wanted to ask but he wasn't going to press. Kurt was young. Blaine didn't want to come off as the authority figure spewing out advice and making Kurt feel coddled. "I'm also a professor at Pratt," he added.

From there the conversation became easier. Blaine talked about his love of the arts and his students. Kurt spoke of his love of musicals and fashion. They stuck to safe topics, each one happier than they had been in a long time until Blaine inadvertently saw the time.

"Kurt, what happened to our ten minute break? It's late," he laughed.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I – I guess they could maybe give you a discount," he said as he hastily got up.

"Oh, Kurt, don't be silly. I'm not worried about the money. I've been enjoying myself," his eyes sparkled as he pressed his hand to Kurt's satiny arm.

"Me too," Kurt breathed. "But if we don't get back to work you'll never finish."

"Maybe I don't want to finish," Blaine said boldly. "Maybe I want to keep you here longer."

Kurt eyes widened like an owl's in the night. He could feel his cheeks flushing and his heart begin to beat faster. He wanted to, God did he ever, but he knew it wasn't possible. Things like this didn't happen to people like him. Plus, he had to work the midnight shift at the diner, which of course Blaine could never know about. "The agency doesn't allow anything longer than two hour sittings. I'm so sorry Blaine."

Blaine's smile faltered a little but he didn't want to push. He didn't want to get Kurt in trouble with the agency. Also, with Kurt being so young and living in New York City, he thought he probably had fantastic plans with his friends tonight anyway. Blaine didn't want to interfere with that. "Of course," he said as he moved back to the canvas. "I'll work fast then."

As Kurt took his position again Blaine picked up his brushes and colour palette. It didn't take long for him to get lost not only in the artistic process but in the young model that had so quickly become more than just a random hire to him. Blaine was addicted. The thoughts lingering in his mind were all kinds of wrong because this was business but more than that, Kurt was just a kid – the same age as his current students. Blaine tried hard to curb the feelings – his mind was reacting in ways that surprised him and he didn't even want to think about the ways in which his body was responding.

Another forty-five minutes later and time was up. Blaine didn't want to overstep so he had been watching the clock knowing that Kurt really wasn't able to. "That's time," he said sadly. "I'm not finished but the two hours are up."

Kurt slowly eased himself out of the pose and turned to face Blaine. He pulled the robe back up over his shoulders and stood. "I'm sorry you weren't able to finish. Maybe you could book another appointment?"

Blaine knew that it would be presumptuous to even think about asking Kurt to stay but he just couldn't help it. "You could stay longer if you wish," Blaine proposed.

Kurt's eyes darted back and forth as he stood in brief silence.

"I mean, I'll pay you overtime," Blaine added. "I don't mean that you should work for free. I'm just on a roll here and honestly you're the best … model I've ever worked with."

Kurt flushed softly at the compliment. "Oh, thank you. That is nice of you to say, Blaine." He hugged his arms around himself, wishing that he could stay. The overtime rate would be wonderful but Kurt would have stayed for free if he could. He couldn't skip his shift at the diner though – that would surely get him fired and even though modeling paid more, the diner was a constant and steady job. He couldn't afford to lose it. He also couldn't afford for Blaine to find out about it. "I'd really love to stay, I would," he said, "but I have prior plans for tonight that I just can't break. I'm so sorry."

"I would definitely make it worth your time, Kurt." Blaine said. It was true - he would give Kurt anything he wanted at this point.

"I'm … I'm sure you would but I just can't." Kurt hurried behind the partition and quickly put on his clothes. He had to leave now before he changed his mind. All of this had happened so fast – in two hours to be precise – and he needed some space. "I'm sorry Blaine. Maybe you could request another appointment with the agency but for now I have to go."

Blaine gave a resigned nod and led him to the front door as Kurt called an Uber. "I could drive you home, you know," Blaine said.

"No," Kurt answered rather abruptly. He certainly didn't want Blaine to know what neighbourhood he lived in. "I mean, I don't want to trouble you. I'll be fine. I take Uber all the time."

"As you wish," Blaine yielded.

"Thanks," Kurt responded, lifting his blues to meet the fire in Blaine's hazels. "Maybe I'll see you again."

"Count on it," Blaine said before Kurt slipped out the door and down the driveway.

XX

The next week brought Kurt back to reality. Between the bills he received in the mail, the collection agencies calling him non-stop, and the extra shifts he picked up at the diner, Kurt had almost forgotten about his whirlwind evening with Dr. Anderson … almost.

The truth was, Kurt was smitten but he was also terrified. With the travesty that his life had become, how could he possibly get involved with a man like Blaine? They were so different - it was like Blaine was from another world. He was a much older professional who lived in a mansion. Kurt was just … Kurt, a broken-hearted kid who could barely afford rent. Seeing Blaine again would be wonderful but at the same time, it would be scary and uncomfortable. Kurt knew that Blaine would request him again for modeling but he just couldn't afford to get involved with him. Not now. It was the worst timing.

One morning, a week after meeting Blaine, as Kurt rushed to the subway to make it into his shift at the diner, he decided that when he returned home that evening he would call the agency and take himself off the rotation – at least until things blew over.

XX

Blaine sat in his office sorting through the stack of papers his students had submitted for their art history projects. He had to read and mark them but at the moment his brain couldn't focus on anything. It had been seven days since his impromptu evening with Kurt and he hadn't been able to get him out of his head. He wanted him badly but it was much more than lust which fueled his desire. He had felt an honest connection with him, but Blaine knew that it would be frowned upon if he pursued Kurt in any way; the age difference was too great. What really muddled about in Blaine's mind though was the thought that Kurt may be hiding something - if the way in which he had so abruptly fled his house was anything to go by.

Blaine sipped his coffee as he made himself read the first paragraph of Amanda's essay but once again his brain took him to Kurt. He thought about what Kurt had actually done for him. Blaine's creativity had been floundering but the moment he saw Kurt's beauty he was able to simply paint. He didn't need to think about it or force himself to try, he just _did_. There was no denying that Kurt was the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen; Blaine desperately wanted to see him again, so he could finish off his painting - yes, but there was much more to it than that.

As Blaine continued to read the essay he decided that once he was done marking all of them he would reward himself by calling the agency to hire Kurt again – maybe he'd get lucky and be able to see Kurt this upcoming weekend.

XX

Kurt opened the door to his small apartment, dead on his feet. The diner had been busier than it usually was and all he wanted to do was shower and have dinner before going to bed. He had a few pressing things to do first though. He needed to sort through the pile of mail that had accumulated. He hated looking at it. It gave him anxiety knowing that all he would be seeing were bills, bills and more bills. After that he would call the agency to let them know of his decision.

Kurt sat in the armchair with a flop as he flipped through all the envelopes. By now he was able to recognize who they were from and what they were – he didn't need to open them to know how much he owed. The last one he came to was in an unmarked envelope that he didn't recognize. He opened it warily and almost stopped breathing when he saw that it was a cheque from the agency, paying him for his first assignment. The amount was double what he had been expecting. He read the stub attached to it and saw that half of the amount was allocated to the wage column and the other half was in the gratuity column.

Blaine had tipped him very generously and did so not knowing Kurt's financial situation. It could not have been out of pity; he was simply thanking him for a job well done – wasn't he? Kurt's brain short circuited at what this could all mean and as much as Kurt hated being remotely dependent on anyone this felt different to him. The extra cash would no doubt come in handy. Kurt was extremely torn but for now he decided not to quit. Something about all this felt right – not the money so much but Blaine. Blaine felt so right.

XX

"Like this?" Kurt asked as he nervously slipped the satin robe from around his hips and let it drop onto the floor, leaving his back and bottom nude for Blaine to paint.

Blaine swallowed. "That's…" _Sweet Lord._

"That's perfect, Kurt."

Blaine was thanking his lucky stars that he had decided to book Kurt again and that Kurt had agreed to come. He really wanted to finish the painting but also, he wanted to see Kurt like this … nude and posing … for him.

The sight did things to Blaine that he didn't even understand. He wanted to reach out to Kurt. He wanted to nestle him against his chest and protect him forever. He wanted to kiss him and even if it was wrong, he wanted _bed_ him. Blaine was far beyond stifling his thoughts anymore. No human would be able to withstand _this_ _image_ and not want Kurt, because Kurt was truly perfect.

"Don't move, please. You are gorgeous like that and I want to capture it," Blaine said as he worked to outline Kurt's lower half, his heart beating steadily and strongly in his chest.

At Blaine's words, Kurt flushed. He was glad that he had his back to the man because he could feel his face turning beet red. It wasn't enough that he was nude for Blaine but Blaine was giving him _compliments_ and _flirting_ with him. Kurt may be inexperienced but he wasn't oblivious to Blaine's subtle advances. Kurt liked it. He liked it a lot and he wasn't sure how much longer he would be able to reign in his emotions, no matter what his life situation was.

Blaine painted for an hour as Kurt sat perfectly still for him. He knew he was pushing him to sit in that position without a break but Blaine was entranced with his painting. His eyes darted from the real Kurt to the image on his canvas. Both were gorgeous and Blaine was proud that he was able to capture such raw beauty. He had created many works of art in his career, many of which had received prestigious accolades from colleagues and critics. Blaine was proud of all of them but _this piece_ … this was something that transcended even Blaine's expectations. He could see very well that Kurt, as a subject and as a person, could very well become his muse … his life's masterpiece.

"Blaine?"

"Mmhmm?"

"Would you mind if we took a small break? My bladder is screaming at me."

"Oh, of course. I'm sorry I didn't offer before. I was caught up in … the painting."

"Thanks," Kurt mumbled as he quickly grabbed the robe and slipped it on, stretching out his muscles before heading to the restroom.

When Kurt was finished, Blaine was waiting for him in the hallway. "Come," he said, "I got some drinks and snacks for us in the library."

"Blaine? Don't you want to finish?"

"There's plenty of time for that. You need a proper break. Come on."

They made their way into the library. Kurt was astounded at the beauty of the room. It was like stepping into a scene of Downton Abbey. The room was huge with floor to ceiling windows along one wall, a study area, rich-looking lamps and artifacts placed throughout, and books lining the curved walls, complete with a sliding ladder. Blaine had set up the table in front of the burgundy leather sofa. Upon it sat a pitcher of lemonade and a platter of finger foods – crackers, meats, cheeses, and raw vegetables and dip.

"Blaine, what is all this?"

"A snack," he said, proud of himself.

"This feels more like…" Kurt paused because he didn't want to say it.

"A date?" Blaine supplied.

Kurt's eyes grew wide. "Yeah, sort of."

"If you want for it to be a date then that is what it shall be," Blaine said shyly as his eyes tried to gauge what Kurt was really thinking.

"This is crazy," Kurt began. "I mean, I feel… I want… I just don't know…"

"Kurt, Kurt," Blaine said, placing his hand on Kurt's arm. "It's okay. We don't have to define it. We don't have to label it. We can just take a fifteen minute break, sit, eat, drink, and enjoy each other's company because I think we can both agree that we very much do."

Kurt took a breath and made the … mistake? … of looking directly into Blaine's hazels. "Okay. I can do that," he agreed with a small nod.

"Good. Now come sit. Are you warm enough in that robe? I can get you a blanket."

"I'm fine," Kurt said as he sunk into the plush leather. "Perfect, actually."

Unsurprisingly, the fifteen minutes turned into an hour. The lemonade was replaced with wine, and the snacks were replaced with pizza, which Blaine had ordered. They were both snuggled up together under a blanket as they ate, drank, and talked the night away – Blaine's painting forgotten.

A full bottle of wine in, the two were laughing like fools. "I can't believe you did that, Blaine," Kurt chortled. "I mean, break out into song in the middle of a Gap? In Ohio?"

"What can I say, I was young and foolish."

"I have to say, though, it is pretty endearing to know that you are romantic enough to serenade someone," Kurt fluttered.

Blaine stilled and looked into Kurt's eyes. The blue in them looked almost turquoise. "That wasn't really a serenade," he said. "I mean, it was just a stupid crush. When someone really means something to me I would do far more than serenade them. I'm the type who would go to the ends of the earth for the person I love." It was cheesy, Blaine knew, but it was the truth. In his heart, the only person he could see himself going to the ends of the earth for was the boy who was currently snuggled up beside him - the same boy who was all of a sudden so very close to his face.

The warmth of Kurt's proximity shot straight to Blaine's gut, releasing the butterflies that had been cooped up long enough. Heat coiled down his spine then seeped lower into his groin. "May I kiss you?" Blaine whispered long before his brain had a chance to stop him.

"I might die if you don't," Kurt murmured, his eyes were already half lidded and his breath was shallow in his chest.

 _I might die if I do_ , Blaine thought to himself. _But it would be such a sweet way to go…_

When their lips touched everything else ceased to exist. There was no painting, no papers to grade, no bills to pay, no diner shifts to run to. There was just Kurt and Blaine and the electricity between them. Blaine was hesitant at first as he was very much out of practice, but as soon as he felt Kurt's perfect lips on his, every doubt in his mind just melted away. Kurt knew he was moaning but he was too far gone to care because Blaine's mouth felt like everything all at once. Everything he had ever wanted.

After a few long seconds, they pulled apart. Blaine let his fingers graze Kurt's blushing cheek as their foreheads came together. "I don't know what this is," Blaine breathed, "but please don't ask me to stop."

Kurt nuzzled into Blaine's hand and closed his eyes because Blaine's regard was entirely too intense at the moment. Kurt answered in whispers along Blaine's jawline. His lips smeared and nipped at Blaine's stubbly skin until Blaine tilted his head down and took Kurt's very breath away. The kiss was more intense this time - passionate, heated, silky, and filled with promise.

XX

When Kurt woke up the next morning, it was to very subtle light filtering in through white curtains. He was confused because - when did he change his blue curtains to white? He stretched and groaned a little when he felt that the muscles in his thighs, arms, and _other places_ were very sore. Then in a flurry, the night before came rushing back to him. He had held the pose for an hour while Blaine painted, but that wasn't why his body was grumbling at him now. He turned his head and sure enough he was met with a lump of sleeping Blaine. His curls splayed onto the white linen of his pillow, his olive-toned shoulders were bare above the duvet which lay over him lazily. If Kurt wasn't internally panicking he would have given into the deep desire to roll into Blaine and trace every muscle of his body with his tongue.

But Kurt was indeed panicking. He sat up and shook his head trying to clear it. He needed to be sure that last night really happened. He and Blaine had sex. Proof of this was that he woke up in Blaine's bed, but what really made Kurt realize how real the situation was, was the way his heart was hammering - filling his chest up with warm emotions he didn't quite know how to process.

After they had had their first kiss in the library, Blaine had invited Kurt up to his bedroom. "Before we get carried away here," he had said, "would you like to accompany me to my bedroom, Kurt? It is much more comfortable there." Kurt had nodded his affirmation and quickly followed. He let Blaine guide him up the stairs and into the huge and lush master bedroom, where they engaged in a night of hot and passion-filled sex.

But it had been a mistake.

As hot as the sex was … _because oh my God, was the man ever sexy_ … and as sweet and gentle as Blaine had been … _"you are so beautiful, Kurt – so completely gorgeous for me"_ … it was just all wrong. He had been _working_. He had been on the clock. He couldn't get involved with Blaine because Blaine was a client but more-so, Blaine couldn't come to know his secret. It was embarrassing and he was ashamed.

It was hard for Kurt to pry his gaze from the beautiful man sleeping next to him and it was also hard to untangle himself from the man's luscious bed. As soon as he was up though, Kurt made his way quietly down the stairs and back into the studio. He rummaged around for his strewn clothing and dressed quickly, not even bothering to use the bathroom or look at himself in the mirror. He needed to leave. He grabbed his belongings and swiftly made his way down the hall and out the front door.

XX

It was twenty-one days (Blaine was counting) since Kurt walked out on him. Blaine wasn't doing too well at all. His home studio had more or less been abandoned. A heavy cloth tarp covered his unfinished masterpiece. Blaine left his house to teach then returned quickly back home at the end of each day, reverting back to the lonely hermit he had become before he met Kurt.

Blaine had been heart-broken when he woke up in his bed alone, Kurt nowhere to be found. He hadn't been surprised, really. Kurt was young … deliciously young … so Blaine didn't blame him for freaking out and leaving. It must've been too heavy for him to take. And maybe it was for the better, Blaine thought. There was a reason he had sworn himself off men, after all. He should have known better. After all these years later, the bad breakup was still wreaking havoc on Blaine's soul.

But after trying his hardest to get thoughts of Kurt out of his heart, he realized that it was impossible and decided that he wasn't going to stop looking for him. He simply couldn't. Blaine called the agency to hire him again but every time he called they said that Kurt was "unavailable". Blaine didn't know if that was the truth or if Kurt had put a block on him. In hindsight, he was kicking himself for not having asked Kurt for his phone number. As much as they knew about each other Blaine realized that he had no idea where Kurt lived either.

It was a bright sunny afternoon when Blaine decided to take a trip into Manhattan. He hadn't been out of the house except to work for a long time and he needed some space to breathe – plus he wanted to go to his favourite specialty bookstore to see if he could find some helpful material for his students, because he had simply run out of inspiration. After he thoroughly perused the books for a couple of hours and settled on buying three new volumes, he decided to stop by the diner on the corner to grab a slice of pie and coffee before heading home to hole himself up again.

XX

"Kurt, the pies are ready," Gunther, his boss yelled from the kitchen. Kurt stopped wiping the menus and moved to take the pies to the display case.

He had been working non-stop since he quit the agency. After Blaine, he didn't have the heart to model for anyone else, plus he didn't want to have to see Blaine again. It would have been too much for his heart to bear. He needed to distance himself and forget. He had other things in his life that he had to take care of before he could even think about getting involved with anyone.

But every night as Kurt lay awake in bed listening to the rusty pipes rattle the walls of his old building, his thoughts floated to the beautiful man who had so effortlessly and genuinely stolen his heart. He knew that it had been different with Blaine. They had a connection, one that had already run deep. He had been tempted many times to cruise by Blaine's house and see if he was home but ultimately his duties and responsibilities won out. Instead he picked up two more shifts a week at the diner, giving him no days off which was exhausting but allowed him to pay his bills and keep his head above water.

Kurt finished placing the key lime and lemon meringue pies into the display case when he was suddenly distracted by the weird feeling that someone was watching him. He turned and was met by surprised hazel eyes … the most beautiful he had ever seen.

"Kurt?"

"Hi."

"I found you," Blaine blurted out in a whisper. He couldn't believe that a chance coffee and pie adventure had led him right back to this beautiful young man.

"You were looking for me?" Kurt asked.

"Of course."

Despite the shock and embarrassment of being found working in the diner, Kurt's heart filled with happiness. Out of everything Blaine could have said to him in that moment: _you work at a diner? What are you doing here? That uniform looks itchy. Can I place my order with you?_ … he had said, _I found you_.

 _I found you_.

"Would … would you like to sit down," Kurt asked. "I can take my break now if you like. We could talk?"

"I would love that," Blaine answered and Kurt noticed that Blaine's eyes were watery.

"You find a table. I'll get us coffee."

Blaine nodded and found the most private table he could, far in the corner by the piano. He couldn't believe the luck he'd run into. Kurt was here and he had not run away upon seeing him. Kurt returned quickly, apron-less and carrying a tray with two cups of coffee, a giant slice of key lime pie and two forks. "I thought we could share," Kurt said, "unless you want your own slice."

"No, this is perfect," Blaine said with a smile.

Kurt distributed the coffee and sat down across from the man. He could feel his cheeks flushing. He was surprised though that it wasn't from shame, but more from the euphoric feeling in his chest of what this could become. "I'm sorry if I look a little shell shocked," Kurt said. "You were the last person I expected to see today."

"Same here," said Blaine. "But I'm so very glad that I ran into you. I miss you, Kurt."

"Really?"

"Yes," he breathed.

Kurt took a sip of his coffee because really he had no idea what to say to that. _I've missed you too – every minute since I walked out of your life?_

"Listen," Blaine elaborated. "I know there are some walls up between us – some are yours and some are mine but I think that we have found something great in each other. Even if all this ends up being is a friendship I want to give it a try because I, for one, could use a friend."

Kurt nodded then blurted out, "for the record, I miss you too."

Blaine smiled. "Well, if we are putting things on the record then I want to say that ultimately I want more than friendship with you Kurt. You have no idea what you've done to me."

Kurt blushed and looked down, grabbing his fork. He toyed with the cream atop the pie then brought it up to his lips to taste. His blues seemed to darken when he looked back up into Blaine's face and saw the sincerity in his gaze. "So let's tear down the walls."

Blaine smiled so brightly that it reached his eyes, the crow's feet wrinkling sweetly. "I was hoping you would say that. Why don't I go first?"

Kurt nodded for him to go on as he took another taste of pie. Blaine took a sip of coffee then began. "Kurt, all my life I've been a loner. As I've gotten older I have become worse. I just don't know how to be around people, and ever since I broke up with my last boyfriend three years ago I don't know how to even be around myself anymore. I was very quickly taking a downward spiral. Even my artistic juices were drying up and that had never happened before. It was freaking me out actually; if I was anything, I was a successful artist and to lose that part of me was frightening."

Kurt's whole attention was on Blaine, the pie and coffee forgotten.

"It was a really bad break up," Blaine continued. "I found him in bed with one of my students at the time. I had thought we would eventually get married and start a family but after walking in on that, all of it went out the window immediately." Blaine paused for a moment. His eyes closed as he forced the image out of his mind. "I was angry and heart broken and I swore to never fall in love with another man again. I didn't even date, not even for fun."

"I'm so sorry," Kurt whispered.

Blaine's eyes opened again as he waved the sentiment away. He slid his hand into Kurt's across the table and was grateful when Kurt didn't pull away. "Then one night the most beautiful man I've ever seen came into my life and I haven't been able to get him out of my heart since."

Kurt squeezed Blaine's hand and dipped his lashes because no one had ever said anything like that about him. "I … Blaine…"

"Shhh, let me finish. I want for you to know everything," Blaine said gently. "Kurt, I know I'm older and have reservations about relationships but I swear to you that I could make you really happy. In a very short time you have become everything to me. It may have started with a physical attraction, I admit that - but God Kurt, it has quickly grown to be so much more than that. I need you. My soul needs you and whatever walls you have up I will gladly help you break them down if you'll let me."

If Kurt had been anywhere else but at work he would have been crying. He needed to release the emotion so he breathed a watery laugh as his other hand took Blaine's so that both their hands were clutched together across the table. "I don't even know what to say to that. No one has ever said things like that to me, such beautiful and heartfelt things."

"Doesn't that tell you something?" Blaine asked.

"It tells me that what we could have would change both of our lives, Blaine and that is scary."

"I know it is. But I would rather try and fail than not try and fail, because now that I've had a taste of what could be – I know that any life without you in it would be a failure for me. I would put everything on the line for you."

"Blaine, I …"

Blaine remained silent as Kurt paused. He needed to know what Kurt was holding back. He wanted to know and he wanted to help.

"I may not be what you think I am."

"How so?"

"Well, I work here for one," Kurt said, motioning to their surroundings.

"And? Do you think that makes a difference to me? It's where you work, not who you are, Kurt. And who says working at a diner is any less important than being an artist or a teacher? You serve the public. You make people smile even if it's with a cup of coffee or a slice of pie. You are earning your living, which is much more than can be said for a lot of people."

 _What have I done to deserve this man?_ Kurt thought.

"There's more."

"Tell me."

"Remember I told you that my father died?"

"Yes," Blaine said and squeezed both of Kurt's hands.

"Well, he left me with the tire shop, which I told you about but what I didn't tell you was that along with the shop came a hell of a lot of debt. He was very behind on payments and for the last little while I have been doing everything to stay afloat. It's why I took the modeling job actually. I would have never done that if I didn't desperately need the money. And it's why I'm not in school. I simply can't afford it right now."

Blaine's gaze softened and Kurt instantly read his mind.

"Kurt…"

"No," Kurt said and sat back in his seat releasing Blaine's hands. "If we are being honest with each other and tearing down walls this is something I need to say and it's non-negotiable."

"Okay," Blaine said softly.

"I do not want your money, Blaine. I do not want your help financially. I do not want to be with you because of how many figures are attached to your bank account."

"But Kurt…"

"No, Blaine. Just no. Please."

Blaine dropped the subject but he would never ever stop trying because he had more money than he knew what to do with and Kurt was such a good person with a huge talent and big dreams – he deserved to go to school. But for now Blaine would let it go because he could see the determination in Kurt's eyes.

"Okay, I will respect your wishes."

Kurt gave a small smile of victory. "Thank you."

Blaine took a forkful of pie and shoved it into his mouth. "Are there any more walls we need to scale?"

"Yes," Kurt said rather seriously. "You are such a gentleman and so accomplished and astute. Are you sure you want to take on a kid like me?"

Blaine laughed. "Take on? What is this, a competition?"

"I'm being serious. What will your friends say, your colleagues, your family?"

"I don't care, Kurt. I have finally found someone who makes my heart whole. I don't care if you're twenty-two or two-hundred-and-two, I would be so proud to be with you. And really, the worry should be coming from me. What do you want with an old man?"

Now it was Kurt's turn to laugh. "Well, this old man happens to be good in bed."

"Oh my God, Kurt, you didn't go there. Not now, not here."

"I did," Kurt said smugly.

"Then why after the amazing night we shared did you walk out?" Blaine asked, his tone turning a little more serious.

"Because," Kurt said without hesitation, "I didn't want to mess it up. I knew that if we talked that morning we would have had an epic freak out together and ended up in an argument and I couldn't deal with that. Finding each other again like this is so much better don't you think?"

Blaine took Kurt's hands across the table again, "I don't think. I know."

XX

Kurt and Blaine wanted to take things slowly. After discussing the logistics of their jobs and hashing out the details pertaining to their schedules, they committed to seeing each other once a week.

That lasted one week.

The weeks and months that followed brought them closer together. The chemistry between them could not be denied and they found themselves spending as much time together as humanly possible, while still keeping their jobs and squeezing in enough sleep to keep them going.

Simply stated, they were inseparable.

Blaine took Kurt on dates several times a week. Sometimes the dates were just simple trips to an ice cream shop or walks in Central Park and sometimes they were more extravagant like dinner and a Broadway show. Mostly though, they decided to stay in. With Blaine's gentle coaxing Kurt let go of the embarrassment and reservations he had about Blaine seeing his small and "inadequate" apartment. Blaine liked it. He said it was cozy and the décor was so very much Kurt. So, they spent evenings there curled up with a movie or a board game or practicing their favourite activity which happened to be making love. Sometimes they would hang out at the mansion in the games room or Blaine's studio where Kurt would unabashedly model for Blaine. He was no doubt Blaine's most effective and most loved muse.

As in love as they were though, they were not immune to arguing. Most times, the catalyst was Kurt feeling insecure about being the young person in the relationship. He was afraid that he was too immature for Blaine and would inadvertently take that insecurity out on him. Other times it would be the other way around – Blaine panicking about Kurt potentially getting tired of "the old man" and finding someone younger. In both cases, they would eventually calm down, talk it out, and remember that they love each other. Another topic of contention between them was of course, money; but it wouldn't take long at all for Kurt to put Blaine in his place whenever he pushed too hard about helping Kurt out financially.

"Why Kurt? Why won't you let me help you?" Blaine asked one morning while Kurt was in the mansion's enormous kitchen making breakfast.

"I've told you again and again, Blaine. I'm not a charity case. I don't need a sugar daddy," he blurted out in a huff.

"Kurt? Is that what you think of me? That I am in this relationship because I want to be your sugar daddy? Do you not think I respect myself at all? I'm here because I love you Kurt. I want to build a life with you and there you are thinking that I want to throw money at you?"

Kurt flipped the crepe and turned to Blaine with a sigh. He couldn't really look into the man's eyes because Blaine looked like an unwanted puppy that had just been kicked to the curb.

"I love you, Kurt. I love you so much and it would make me so happy if I could help you."

"You do help me, Blaine. You are always here for me when I've had a long day. You give me massages when my legs and feet are tired from working all day. You lighten my spirits and you make me smile. You keep me moving forward and hopeful for a future working in a career that will make me happy and loving the man of my dreams. You help me in so many ways – I don't need your money."

Blaine understood where Kurt was coming from but he wasn't going to give up so easily. "How many hours do you think you've sat in a pose for me while I paint?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" Kurt asked.

"Just answer. How many?" Blaine prodded as he crossed his arms against his chest.

"Blaine, I have no idea but it doesn't matter because I love doing that for you."

"Well, I don't need for you to do that for me anymore. You do so much for me every day. I no longer need your modeling services. If I need a model I will hire one and pay them." Blaine knew how ridiculous he sounded and he knew that Kurt could very quickly fly off the handle and they'd end up fighting but he really needed to get his point across once and for all.

"Blaine, what in the world?" Kurt said incredulously as he gave him his best bitch glare.

"I don't want you to work for free, Kurt. I'll just hire someone if I need to."

"No."

"No?"

"That is not the same and you know it."

"It is exactly the same, Kurt."

Kurt turned off the stove, not wanting anything to burn. He put down the flipper and stormed off into the bedroom, slamming the door. Blaine was having none of it this morning. He followed. "Kurt," he said, opening the door, "modeling for me is something that you are so amazingly good at. You were born to do it because you can so easily get into character and your body is so gorgeous. I know you do it for me because you love me but I also know that it makes you happy."

Kurt looked at him sullenly. "Well, yes, but that's not the point."

"It is precisely the point. Why is it acceptable for you to do something _for me_ but not acceptable for me to do something _for you_? Both acts make us happy and come from a place of love, Kurt."

Kurt uncrossed his arms with a sigh and slowly inched toward Blaine. "Because … I feel ashamed," he admitted.

"Oh sweetheart," Blaine said and moved to take him into his arms. "There is absolutely no shame in accepting help from someone who values you and loves you. The debt fell in your lap and you have been working so hard to clear your father's name. I am so proud of you and I want to help you. Please let me."

Kurt wiped the tears from cheeks. He really didn't know what he had done to deserve such a kind-hearted man, but he decided in that moment that he wasn't going to fight it anymore. He needed help and if he had to accept it from anyone, he would accept it from Blaine because he knew that above everything, Blaine _loved_ him. He wrapped his arms around the man he adored, tucked his face into the soft flesh of Blaine's neck and inhaled deeply. "Okay," he murmured as he breathed out a sigh of relief.

XX

 **One Year Later**

Kurt stood in the middle of the spacious room looking up at a large portrait of himself in the full glory of oil on canvas. Beside it, tacked onto the wall there was a small card. It read:

 ** _One_**

 _"_ _A Life's Masterpiece"_

 _Dr. Blaine Anderson_

 _Not For Sale_

As Kurt read the words, his mind wandered through the past year's events and he couldn't help but smile…

He and Blaine had continued to nurture their relationship. Kurt happily helped Blaine with his art and Blaine would _compensate_ him with a pay cheque. It was what they had worked out so that Kurt wouldn't feel like he was freeloading but Blaine would still be able to help.

Kurt paid off the majority of the debt from Hummel Tires & Lube and was able to get back on his feet. He scaled down his shifts at the diner quite a bit when he returned to NYADA, part-time with the Dean's personal blessing.

Blaine ended up tendering his resignation with Pratt and became a full time artist, painting, creating, showing and selling his works internationally. He pretty much sold every painting he created – except for eight of them.

Now, minutes away from the opening of Blaine's show, Kurt stood in Manhattan's most prestigious art gallery among those eight paintings. He looked around the room, his bright blue eyes scanning them. Each one was a depiction of himself in a different pose. What amazed him most about the portraits was the obvious care and attention with which each one was created. He could tell the artist had painted from the deepest corners of his heart. The technique, the story, and the intent of each piece was exquisite but the best quality, Kurt thought, was that he could see the artist's very soul reflected within them. Kurt was happily aware that he was the only one who would ever see that.

"What are you looking at?" The artist's sultry voice muffled against Kurt's neck as he felt strong arms wrap around him from behind.

Kurt smiled. "Your very soul."

"That is what you are," Blaine whispered. "My very soul. My life's masterpiece. My fiancé."

It had only been only two weeks since Blaine had sunk down to one knee and asked for Kurt's hand beneath the starlit sky of the French Riviera. Kurt thought the title of _fiancé_ had quite the nice ring to it, but really he just couldn't wait to become Blaine's _husband_.

"Actually," Blaine added, "let's just say that you are _everything_ to me."

"Does that mean you'd go to the ends of the earth for me?" Kurt asked, mirthfully.

Blaine grinned and nuzzled against his neck. "You are the person I love so what do you think?"

Kurt took Blaine's hand and lifted it to lips, placing a trail of kisses along his palm. He turned to face his fiancé and pressed his hand flat against Blaine's chest, right over his heart. "I think I don't need you to go to the ends of the earth for me because I've got the whole universe right here."

Blaine blinked rapidly, trying to keep his tears from falling, knowing it would be futile. "I love you so much, Kurt."

"I love you too," Kurt responded as he leaned in for a long, languid took Blaine's hand and lifted it to lips, placing a trail of kisses along his palm. He turned to face his fiancé and pressed his hand flat against Blaine's chest, right over his heart. "I think I don't need you to go to the ends of the earth for me because I've got the whole universe right here."

Blaine blinked rapidly, trying to keep his tears from falling, knowing it would be futile. "I love you so much, Kurt."

"I love you too," Kurt responded as he leaned in for a long, languid kiss.


End file.
